I never thought I would rebuke a mouse. Well I mean I suppose I can see it, if by rebuke you mean, “a sharp criticism.” But on a spiritual level I am not sure if there is a theology on the rebuking of rodents. “You have no authority here, you have to go. I rebuke you in Jesus name!” came Dusty’s voice. His voice expressed that he was both cynical and hopeful that maybe, just maybe Jesus was okay with him taking dominion and rebuking a mouse. Dusty laughed a good belly laugh, but repeated, “you are not welcome here, you have to go.” Laughter erupted between us, but deep down the hope remained.
After watching the mouse run under a cabinet, Dusty and I systematically dismantled the cabinet, while watching with the fervor of a hawk perched on a guide wire. Our eyes were burning with lack of sleep, and sheer determination to watch this monster depart from our room. After slowly removing everything from the shelves, we reached the final stack of clothes. The mouse was no doubt under this final stack. We prepared our minds and hearts, and built our faith on non verbal nods to one another. But our eyes betrayed us and we saw the fear in each other. We reached down, our hands unsure of what was coming. Nothing. It was gone. It was not in the final stack. How? Where could it have gone? Dusty looked up and said with all the seriousness of a doctor delivering bad news, “it’s spiritual warfare. This mouse is a demon.”
Right on cue, this demon mouse manifested in the exact place we had thoroughly “cleansed”. I began to myself believe that this demon mouse of Manila was not of this present age. But an evil that had been since the time of Babylon. As it ran out of the room and into the living area, I followed. I laid on my stomach and turned the flashlight on. This is a horror movie, and yet its playing out in my actual life. Choose your next move carefully Matt, it maybe your last. I searched the corners of the room, there, a flash of movement. “Matt, whatever you see, don’t fear it, fight it!” I silently spoke. My eyes burned as I tried to focus them. My light fixed on the slight movement. Then, it emerged. From out of its den of iniquity it emerged. Slithering like a fiery serpent covered in fur, each movement cold and deceitful. Wait, no that wasn’t it at all.
He was lost. We had invaded his room, and now he was behind the couch, totally without option. He was now a displaced refugee. He was light gray, with a softness about him. And I imagined the FUGEES singing, “strumming my pain with his fingers, singing my life with his words.” What was this feeling in my chest? Empathy? Compassion?
In a moment of truth and understanding, his little identity was rescued. He was not a demon, but a terrified little creation missing his home. I was the demon invader pillaging his town, and dismantling his home.
Who is he now? What is his identity? He is Jerry, our new room mate #RescuedIdentities
